Time of Dying
by WitheringSage
Summary: Raja meets two Romans near her age. Do they like her for herself, or will they condemn her for her disparities?


Note: This story contains lines of disturbing content.

**Time of Dying**

_On the ground I lay  
Motionless in pain  
I can see my life flashing before my eyes  
Dead I fall asleep  
Is this all a dream  
Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare_

Chronology: Tristan is 18. Raja is 8.

The caravan stopped in the courtyard surrounded by a small contingent of Roman soldiers and the knights. They had been gone two days to meet with the wife and children of a Roman noble stationed a few days from the fort. The family was residing in the hands of Arthur's hospitality for a day or two. It was mid-November, the snow sparse despite the biting cold. But Ardeth had told Raja, who had never seen snow in her life, that soon the land would be covered in white.

It was only by sheer happenstance that the wife and children of the Roman were old acquaintances of Ardeth's family. Raja's lineage was thick with noble blood, and in her case, that entailed being considerable wealthy in her own right. She and her family had resided on the land that was owned in their name. The same village that was burned, but was being repaired even as Raja left Egypt for Britain.

The Roman family had gone to their quarters to clean and rest. Raja was to meet them later. Since the day that Ardeth told her that they were coming to the fort she had been on pins and needles. She didn't remember them, but the fact that she was going to be introduced to two children near her age was enough to make her head spin. The young boy was eleven, and the girl fourteen. Raja had never had many friends her own age. The children back home had always steered clear of her, thinking her some unnatural harbinger of ill fortune because of her silver eyes which no one else in her family possessed. They poked fun at her behind her back, the bolder ones speaking loud enough for her to hear and even daring to throw rocks at her. Defending herself had become tiresome, and she did everything she could to hide the humiliation from her family. She stuck to her mother and father all the more, and the other adults who accepted her for who she was. The only children she was ever able to befriend were the ones that were outcasts like her. She was good friends with a boy two years older than her. He had milky white skin, his hair equally as white. There was a girl with a clubbed foot, who also had a terrible stutter. These were the people that Raja identified with.

She hadn't slept well the two previous nights; especially sense Tristan wasn't there to calm her fears. Raja had relented and taken a small dose of sleeping herbs her uncle had insisted on.

After the knights had bathed and eaten, the little Egyptian ran to greet them, her newfound family. Dagonet had lifted her high off the ground, and for a fleeting moment it was as if she were flying. She gave Lancelot a hug and kiss on the cheek that had him blushing a bit at her unwavering acceptance of him and his flaws. Bors nearly crushed her back when he gave her a big bear hug. Arthur's hug was always firm and gentle, but filled with affection. The knights still couldn't help but snicker when Tristan would hug her back, and the scout would never fail to give them a death stare, but he knew it was just brotherly ribbing they were giving him. They were all as fond of Raja as he was.

When Ardeth came to Raja's room to tell her it was time to meet the family, her body became tense with fearful anticipation. She held on tightly to her uncle's hand as they walked towards a comfortable sitting room. The mother and her two children were sitting at a table drinking tea and eating snacks when Ardeth walked in, Raja trying to hide behind him. The mother immediately stood up, embracing Ardeth in familiarity.

"It's so good to see you again," she told him sincerely.

"Good to see you again as well, Antonia," he replied.

Her children had already risen and joined their mother's side.

"Allow me to present my children," she said. "This is Claudia and Claudius."

"The last time I saw you two you were mere babes," Ardeth said.

They both politely greeted him, Claudius looking up at the Egyptian with unveiled awe. His father, also named Claudius, often told him of what a powerful warrior Ardeth was, no man could best him. He also told him that he had never met another man with such infinite intelligence; the Egyptian had friends very high up in many places.

"This," Ardeth said, gently nudging Raja out from behind him, "is my niece Raja." He placed assuring hands on her shoulders.

Raja swallowed a lump in her throat, greeting them shyly. She noted how pretty Claudia was with her wavy brown locks, lavender Roman garb, and flawless skin. Claudius also had the same colored hair, impeccable clothing, and would surely grow to be a handsome man. She also did not fail to notice the rather curious stares of the boy and girl. Antonia looked at her with motherly sympathy.

"Dear girl, you are a spitting image of your mother," she said. "I am sorry about your mother and father." She pulled the little girl into a consoling embrace. "'Aisha and Lancelot would be proud of what a lovely girl you are becoming."

Raja tried to smile, but it could not quite meet her eyes. She did not understand how this kind lady could say that she was a liking of her mother. Every time she looked in the mirror she saw everything her mother was not. Ugly, unrefined. And she also saw everything of her mother that she wished she could be. Beautiful, graceful, gentle, eyes that held infinite warmth, a presence that glowed and hushed even the most crowded of rooms. The little Egyptian girl also longed to possess the strength her father had. Everything a warrior should be.

"Raja," Ardeth said, "perhaps you would like to show Claudia and Claudius around the premises."

She sent a silent plea to her uncle not to leave her alone with these people she hardly knew. How was she to act around them? What was she to say?

"All right," she conceded.

They all donned their warmest clothes to shield them from the cold. They followed Raja quietly as she escorted them around, showing them the surroundings that had become her home, introducing them to people that she had come to be comfortable around. She took them to the stables, where she instantly felt her confidence bolster as she showed them the horses that she had a special kinship with. Raja presented Jols to them, and they greeted him with the trained politeness they were supposed to show. Raja noticed that it was slightly forced, but they were being nice to her, and she slowly allowed herself to think that maybe they were becoming to like her. She then took them to the tavern last where she knew her friends would be. Raja felt secure in the knights' company. Claudia and Claudius had probably already been introduced to the knights, but she wanted them to see her brothers in a casual setting.

After all introductions had been made, Raja gaily left her brothers to continue showing her new friends the rest of the fort.

Dagonet and Tristan had left to tend to their horses minutes after Raja had left. Tristan had stared suspiciously at the young boy the whole time. His scout eyes did not fail to notice the way the Roman boy was looking at Raja, infatuated seemed the word. And the scout didn't like it. He brushed Dyne in stark concentration.

Dagonet cleared his throat. "Problem, Tristan?"

He grunted. "That boy could barely take his eyes off of her."

"Oh, he likes her," Dagonet said, smiling at his friend's protectiveness. "Perhaps in his young way he's trying to court her."

Tristan instantly tensed at that notion, gripping the brush tightly in his hand. "She's too young for that," he insisted firmly, a quiet growl laced his words.

"True. But it is good for her to have friends her own age," Dagonet pointed out.

"What's wrong with me?" The tone of his voice set Dyne on edge, and Tristan took a breath to calm both himself and his horse.

"Nothing," the tall knight assured. "But she doesn't spend any time with the other children around here-"

"Because they stare at her. She's safer around us."

"Safer? What harm would come to her spending time with other kids?"

Tristan's jaw clenched as he mulled that one over. It was just a feeling he had. Raja had mentioned that she didn't get along with most of the kids back in her village. She always seemed more at ease around him and the other knights – so why urge her into being around people that she didn't want to be around. Tristan saw hurt in her eyes, loneliness, the other men did, too, but not as acutely as he did, and Ardeth, of course. Tristan just did not want to run the risk of anyone causing Raja pain. How much torment could her delicate self take? She'd kick him in the shin if he ever said that aloud to her. He wanted to wrap her in a cocoon, keeping her safe from any outside threats. And if the suspicions of what he thought had happened to her back in Egypt might be credible, he especially wanted to keep her safe from threatening males.

"I don't know. Forget I said anything," Tristan said, dismissing the subject.

----------------------------------------

"I think they like me, Trissy," Raja announced happily. "I've never had normal looking people my age like me." It was evening, and Raja was untangling his hair. She had once again tried to sneak some fragranced cream on his hair to soften it, but he caught her. The fire crackled in Tristan's room, and as Raja rambled on about the two children, he became more and more wary.

"Normal looking people?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "They don't have any defects like me."

"You don't have any defects," he contradicted.

"My eyes," she told him, not the first time she had.

"They're normal enough to me," he refuted strongly.

"Do you think Claudius likes me?" she asked quietly, so quiet he almost didn't hear her.

Tristan's jaw tightened, he waited for Raja to braid the last of his hair; then he got up to poke at the fire. Why did she have to ask him that? She sat on the large chair he had just vacated, her feet not able to touch the ground. She twiddled her thumbs, waiting for an answer that she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.

"Never mind," she blurted, "I don't want to know." She snatched an apple off of the table and took a small nibble. Her legs continued to dangle off the chair as she swung them back and forth.

"But do you like him?" Tristan asked, breath held inside. He didn't quite like the idea of that.

"As a person, yes." she replied.

"As a person? Why do you care if he likes you or not then?"

She looked at him as if the answer should have been obvious. "Because maybe if he did, that would mean somebody _else_ someday might like me, someone I like in return."

He took the chair opposite her, grabbing himself the last apple.

"I think you're a little young for things like that anyway," Tristan told her.

She smiled ruefully, the facial gesture falling instantly. Tristan saw her avert her head, but he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes before she squeezed her eyes shut to block them away. His heart could have burst then and there at the incredibly sad look on her face. Perhaps things had happened to her, or been done to her, that she had been much too young for in Egypt. The thought made his stomach churn and his heart burn for Raja.

"You know," she said quietly, tracing an invisible shape on the table with her small finger, "my father used to look at my mother like she was the only person in the room. He would kiss her on her hand very softly." She smiled at the memory. "I heard a lady say that only the most beautiful, intelligent and graceful of women get treated like my father treated my mother. Sometimes I think that it's better that they died on the same day, because it just would have been too cruel for one of them to live without the other. Is that wrong?" Raja looked at Tristan with silver doe eyes.

"No."

She sighed heavily, with relief or heartache, Tristan didn't know, but he suspected a bit of both.

"I think I'll go to sleep now," she said. She gave him a hug before leaving, but she stopped at the door. "Tristan?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think...that maybe he might like me?"

"No reason not to," Tristan said after a slight pause. "But you're still too young," he insisted stubbornly, receiving a smile in return.

--------------------------------------

That night Raja dreamed of her parents, the three of them walked through a field of flowers, hand in hand. But then a strong breeze blew past, carrying them away. She chased after them, calling them, and she almost had them by the hands, she almost joined them up there in the clear skies...but THEY held her back, their presence darkened the sky, and killed every flower, plant and tree. Raja woke up in a sweat, the dawn breaking through her night of ills. The scar on her torso was bothering her, it itched and when she rotated her waist the scar tissue stretched uncomfortably. She knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, so she went to the bath that was not far from her room to clean off the stench of sweat and THEM. Raja couldn't believe how close she had come to telling Tristan about who THEY really were. She didn't want to lose him as a friend, and that was exactly what she was afraid of if he did learn the truth.

She dried herself off and donned her clean, fitted breeches, knee length skirt with short slits up the sides, blue tunic and black cotton, knee length coat. She felt soothed by the soft layers. She sat at her small desk, the dim lamp lighting the pages of her vellum. She had been keeping a journal since she'd arrived here in Britain. She was almost finished with this one, and would need another one soon. She usually wrote in Arabic, but she would occasionally write passages or excerpts in Latin and Sarmatian, or sometimes Greek. Just for practice.

_...had a dream about my mother and father earlier this morning. THEY came and held me back from going with my parents. I have not felt well for the last couple of days, worse than usual. I almost told Tristan about whom THEY are, but I fear he would find me disgusting and not want to be my friend any longer. He accepts me, which is very important to me. He does not look at me as if I am odd. I wonder if I were older he might be attracted to me, even now that thought causes me to blush. I would not dare tell him! He would certainly avoid me like a plague if he knew that notion had crossed my mind. All the same, he prefers what the women look like in the tavern. Their eyes are normal, as is their hair; they probably do not have shameful scars that mar their skin either. Yes, he accepts me as a friend, but I think, even if I were older he would not be interested in a person such as me..._

She continued to write more until she could no longer endure to see her thoughts on paper. Her uncle would be knocking on her door soon for her to join him for breakfast as she did every morning. While she waited she opened Ovid's _The Art of Love_. Raja stumbled over the meaning of some things, but she always asked her uncle on his interpretation. She might have been able to read the words with ease, but that did not mean her young mind could fully understand the implications.

Raja heard the soft, distinct, knock on the door, knowing it was her uncle, her ultimate protector. He came in with the breakfast tray, noticing that she had already bathed, and once again had scrubbed her skin a bit too harshly judging by the slight redness of her face. Ardeth never said anything about the two baths she took each day. His heart always went out to his beloved niece, dealing with the traumatic aftermath of what she had lost and suffered.

"Hungry, little one?" This morning he had brought two bowls of porridge, buttered bread and tea. Ardeth made the habit of eating what she ate as a form of encouragement. During breakfast he would quiz her on her studies, which she would ponder diligently and answer enthusiastically.

By the time they finished eating people were coming alive to start their day. Antonia and her children slept late into the day, no doubt still tired from the previous day journey, and resting for the continuation of their trek the following dawn. Usually during the day Raja would spend her time outdoors, but the cold was too unforgiving for her. She completed her daily homework assignments, went to the stables to kill time. When it was well past noon, she was still hoping to spend time with Claudia and Claudius.

Raja headed down the corridors to their quarters. The door to Antonia's antechamber was slightly open, and by the sounds she knew they were readying their belongings for tomorrow. The three of them were in there, including the two ladies in waiting.

"We don't have to spend any more time with her, do we mother?" Raja heard the unmistakable distaste in Claudia's voice.

"Why not?" her mother replied. "She is a perfectly pleasant girl."

A derisive snort of disagreement came from Claudius. "I've never seen a girl so queer looking."

A knife plunged into Raja as she listened. Her mind was telling her to back away, to not listen, but her legs weren't obeying.

"And her hair," his sister chimed in. "It's unnatural."

"I saw her when she was a mere babe, she was not born with it," Antonia told them. "I hope you did not say anything of a sort to her."

Raja was slowly crumbling inside. How could she have thought that they would see past her abnormal features?

"She's lucky she's filthy rich, she would never get a decent husband by her looks," Claudia said, continuing to belittle the little Egyptian girl.

"She's rich?" Claudius's interest peaked.

"Very rich!" one of the ladies in waiting piped up.

"How rich?" Claudius prodded.

"Rose," Antonia chastised the woman, "do not feed their minds with such things."

"Oh, but my lady," the woman objected. "The obscene amount of riches she will inherit-"

"Enough," Antonia said firmly.

But her enraptured children could not be deterred.

"Perhaps she could marry Claudius," his sister teased musingly.

"No!" he objected.

"Claudia," her mother warned.

Her daughter let out a breath of exasperated air.

"Well, money or not, I still do not understand how her parents could spawn such a peculiar looking child," the second lady in waiting conjectured.

"What do you mean?" Claudia asked.

"Oh!" the first lady in waiting jumped in. "Her mother was the epitome of an Egyptian goddess, and her father was the most handsome man I'd ever clapped eyes on."

"Is that true, mother?" her daughter asked.

Antonia sighed. "Her parents, 'Aisha and Lancelot were wonderful people. My heart breaks thinking of that little girl suffering so much."

Claudia said something Raja did not catch, but it must have been truly awful because it caused Antonia to snap.

"Don't you ever say anything like that again! That is despicable. Raja has been through more tragedy in the past year of her life than both you and your brother's ages combined. I did not raise either of you to be so empty hearted." She took a breath. "Go back to your rooms," she ordered. "I am disgusted with the two of you right now. You will not leave your rooms until we depart tomorrow," her voiced raised an octave when she was met with protestations. "Dinner will be brought to you. Go now."

Raja quietly left before they could see her. Her skin was burning as she moved blindly through the halls. THEIR words echoed in her mind, the darkness of memories were settling heavily upon her. THEY were coming. She could hear THEM.

"_Not as pretty as her mother, but she'll do..."_

Raja spun around hearing that voice. One of those voices. She stumbled and fell hard against the solid floor, she tried to break her fall, but she went down awkwardly, her knees hitting the stone and her forehead making contact with the stone floor. She felt warm blood trickle down her face.

"_She reminds me of a little demon with those eyes..."_

This voice was deeper, harsher. Raja picked herself up, her knees almost giving. She ran, not knowing where she was going. The flare of candles in the halls cast ghoulish shadows.

"_Ah, shut up and have your turn. I'm hard as hell, and I want to fuck her tight cunt..."_

Raja was dizzy, the gloom was thick with suffocating malevolence. All she saw was a corner, she couldn't run anymore, couldn't escape THEM She crouched, eyes open, THEY would not let her close them. She heard cries coming from somewhere, someone.

"_The ugly bitch is struggling...just fuck you harder then..."_

The little Egyptian huddling in the shaded corner was in agony. She could feel THEM. Taste THEM.

"_Toss me your dagger! This ugly cunt ain't cooperating..."_

There was a glint of iron. She braced herself...she felt the sting of the blade through her skin.

---------------------------------

Tristan felt something was off. Dyne nickered at the scout's sudden change in mood. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread. He bumped into Lancelot as he walked determinedly out of the stables.

"Have you seen Raja?" Tristan sternly asked him, the golden orbs of his eyes tinged with ice.

Lancelot took a slight step back, wary of Tristan's gaze. "I saw her about an hour ago."

"You don't know where she is now?"

Lancelot shook his head. "Why? What's wrong?" His consternation over Tristan's behavior was rapidly turning into concern for his cousin. "What's the matter with her?"

Tristan ignored him, walking to the keep with an outward calm. Lancelot followed him. Before Tristan went up the stairs, he said to Lancelot, "Her uncle is in his study. Get him now." Without another word he quickly ascended the steps.

Lancelot could do nothing other than follow Tristan's directions. The scout seemed to know what was going on more than he did. He made his way on the first floor to Ardeth.

The corridors were shadowed, and now that he was on the second floor the feeling of unease was stronger. He didn't know why, but he knew it was Raja. His gut flip-flopped, his heart rate increasing at the idea of what could be wrong with her. He was a silent presence in the halls, his eyes piercing the dim for the small figure of Raja. There were too many damned halls! When he reached the small stairwell to the third floor which was rarely occupied, he heard a keening sound, like an animal trapped in a cage. His heart caught in his throat, and he quickly followed the noise, twisting left and right until he saw Raja laying on her side in a far corner.

He hurried to her, instantly dropping to his knees. His blood ran cold, seeing her like this again, but worse. There was a massive bump on her head, dripping blood...most of her face was smeared with blood, but not from that cut alone. One of her arms was spread out, and he saw that she had cut her palm, noticing the dagger on the ground. He didn't dare touch it, not after what had happened last time. Raja was clutching at her side, he moved his head to see better, his eyes falling on a savage, jagged scar that ran from the side of her body down near her navel. His little Raja? The painful whimpers she was making were tearing at him, her eyes wide as saucers as she watched whatever played in front of her. He was loathe to leave her, but he had to bring Ardeth here.

With haste, he went back the way he had come, seeing Ardeth with Lancelot in tow as he rounded the corner.

"Ardeth!" Tristan said urgently.

The look on the scout's face was worth a thousand words. Ardeth followed him up the stairs to the prone figure of Raja. Lancelot had stopped paces away, he did not need to come closer to see that his cousin was hurt. The sounds she was making were awful, worse than the screams of dying men he heard on the battlefield.

Tristan stood next to Ardeth as he bent down towards his niece. When the Egyptian's hand came close to her shoulder her sob grew louder, but the Arabic chant that Ardeth murmured to her slowly calmed her, reducing her cries to soft, painful mumbles.

----------------------------------------

Nobody saw Raja for the rest of the day. Ardeth made his quick apologies to Antonia that Raja would not be able to leave her room for she was ill. He spent every minute with her, he cleaned her wounds, and leached the cumbrous bruise on her forehead. The knights heard her wails throughout the night with brief spells in between. Lancelot couldn't take the sounds of Raja's torment, getting up in the middle of the night to sleep in his barracks. Every cry Tristan heard made his entire body clench. He felt her grief, he shut his eyes trying to send her anguish his way so that he might bear it for her.

It killed him that he could not comfort her. For all the tranquility she brought him, the smiles she brought out, the goodness that she saw in him, he could do nothing but stand there as she lay helpless on the ground.

The Romans left, more days passed. The knights stepped in occasionally, telling her mundane details about their day, but they were always upbeat. Or sometimes they just sat quietly with her, holding her uninjured hand. The snow began to fall heavily, blanketing the land in pure white. Nine days after, in the evening, Tristan ventured towards Raja's door. It was open, Ardeth was quietly reading a book to himself as Raja lay on her side under the multiple blankets, only her head and arms were visible. Her body looked far too small for the bed.

Ardeth saw the stealth movement near the door, looking up before Tristan could even make a sound. The Egyptian smiled compassionately at the young man.

"Would you like to sit with her?" he asked. "She's awake."

Tristan stepped into the room as quietly as possible.

"Lancelot was here earlier regaling her with tales of dragons," Ardeth told him. "She was paying attention, which is an improvement. I will be in my study if you have need of me."

Tristan nodded.

"Perhaps, if you could manage to get her to drink some tea or eat a bit of fruit, that would be good. She had trouble holding down her food this morning," Ardeth informed him regretfully. He patted Tristan on the shoulder, leaving the two of them.

"Wait," Tristan said, walking towards the larger man. "What is it you say to her that calms her? I've heard you say it to her before."

"Actually, it is a lullaby her mother used to sing to her to get her to wake up or go to sleep. It always brought her peace. Seems to be the one thing that can pacify her during these times." Ardeth tilted his head. "Would you like to learn it?"

Tristan's eyebrows shot up. Learn Arabic? "I think I would."

Ardeth nodded and smiled. "Very well. We can begin tomorrow. I think Raja will enjoy having someone else sing it to her other than me."

After he left, Tristan occupied the vacant arm chair next to Raja's bed. He saw a little mouse idling in the crook of her elbow.

"What's this one's name?" he asked, hoping to create some recognition in her eyes.

Her eyelids fluttered, her eyes moving to look right at him, but she did not reply. Without thinking, he brushed dark strands of hair out of her face. She didn't flinch, or cringe.

"They said bad things," she said, her voice low and raspy.

"Who?"

She cleared her throat, but still kept her voice a hush. "Claudia and Claudius, one of the ladies." Raja sniffed. "Called me ugly...unnatural." When she stopped, Tristan said nothing, but waited for her to go on. He wished he could gallop as fast as he could towards those Romans and eliminate them for her, for saying such cruel things to her. "If it weren't for my money, I would never get a decent husband, she said. The lady thought how could two people as beautiful as my parents," her voice cracked, "have me for a daughter." The mouse stirred to life as if it sensed the new waves of sadness coming from Raja.

Tristan had to turn his head away to hide the look of stark rage on his face. He unclenched his fists, forcing his body to relax.

"You know none of that is true, Raj," he said to her.

"Yes, it is." She repeated it again quietly, then she looked him dead in the eyes. "I wish I had died with my parents."

Tristan's mouth set in a strict line. His hand shot out and held hers by the wrist. "Don't ever say that," he hushed, leaning in so his face was closer to hers. "Never say that." He eased his grip, but didn't let her go, holding her miniature hand.

"Why not?"

He didn't answer for a moment or two, just concentrated on the disparity of their hands. Calloused and large, soft and small.

"Because I don't want you to go. You bring me peace."

"I do?"

He cracked a small smile. "Yeah." And tenderly, he brought his lips to her little hand, placing the gentlest of kisses upon it.

She managed a sleepy smile in return, feeling some of the darkness lift.

_I will not die, I'll wait here for you  
I feel alive, when you're beside me  
I will not die, I'll wait here for you  
In my time of dying_  
-Three Days Grace


End file.
